


For the Sake of Morale

by ladydragon76



Series: The Lottery [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack, M/M, Plot? What Plot?, Sticky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7341922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Hey this lottery thing sounds like a pretty good deal.  Optimus is going to implement it with the Autobots.  It's only fair that he take the first round and lead from the front though, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Busted

**Author's Note:**

> **'Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** The Lottery  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Optimus Prime, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Ratchet, Skyfire  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky, Crack, Plot? What plot?  
>  **Notes:** *points blame finger at NK* *Points emphatically* That said, this takes place directly after _Denial_ and is Part #4 in the Lottery series. You'll probably want to read the rest of the fics first if you haven't yet so you've got the background stuff. Plus it's fun, hot crack, and you should ttly read it all anyways. ^_^ In this one, we got us some double penetration, some bondage and D/s, and some size kink. 8D Enjoy~

Optimus _tried_ to be discreet and stay out of sight as he returned to the _Ark_. He smelled of sex, and even a quick dip through a conveniently placed river hadn't washed him completely clean.

Or maybe that was the guilt?

Optimus had taken a _huge_ risk without telling anyone. He had left his friends- his family vulnerable and open to attack while he shared an _amazing_ afternoon with their greatest enemy. Honestly, he half expected to pull up to the base and it be destroyed despite Megatron's claims. It was a relief to see it looked the same as when he had left it.

Optimus made it as far as the hall before the turn to the officer quarters when a voice stopped him.

"Sir," Prowl said, his voice clipped and flat in a way that made Optimus' shoulders hunch.

"Hello, Prowl," Optimus replied, trying to play it off as having just been startled. "I was lost in my thoughts and didn't see you, my friend."

Prowl's expression went even more blank, and Optimus knew he was busted. He wasn't sure what gave it away, or if it was even his afternoon out that had done it, but he was absolutely busted. "Indeed." One white hand lifted to gesture Optimus on. "If you have a moment, I'd like to speak with you. Your quarters will be fine."

Prime he might be, but Optimus knew an order when he was given one. He turned and walked to his door, keying in the entry code and gesturing Prowl in ahead of him politely. It wasn't so unusual for them to share a cube after shift, so at least the whole crew wouldn't be alerted or gossiping.

"Next time you run off to interface someone," Prowl began the instant the door was shut, "perhaps buff out the incriminating color transfers." A buffing cloth was whipped at Optimus' helm, and he was just stunned enough by the genuine anger that it caught him square in the face.

Oh. The face. His mask was…

"Oh."

"Oh, my aft!" Prowl snapped. "What were you thinking?!"

"That this could be an opportunity for peace?" Optimus offered as he stepped over to a small mirror and groaned inwardly at the black streak on his face. Primus save him. It buffed out easily enough, and honestly he'd been so distracted after having Megatron ride his face, that he hadn't considered any color transfers there. That was a new one. Really.

Prowl heaved a sigh, raided Optimus' stash of high grade and collapsed onto the sofa. "I found out from Jazz, who found out from Bumblebee."

Optimus winced. He adored their scout, but no one was a bigger gossip. "I do… uh… I do have an idea," he said, daring to face Prowl. "It'll explain my actions and also hopefully help morale."

"Really?" Prowl asked, tone dripping disbelief.

Optimus nodded and crossed to sit on the other end of the sofa, facing his Second in Command. "That video we saw, it's actually the implementation of a kind of lottery the Decepticons are using. A mech's name is drawn, and for two weeks, he interfaces the rest of the crew as time permits, giving mechs a chance to use their spikes without argument."

One blue optic brightened, and skepticism positively _rolled_ off Prowl.

"That was Megatron's turn, though Starscream's odd request and use of his own valve was actually a prank aimed at us."

Prowl blinked slowly. "Are you telling me," he said, equally slowly as the blink, "that the Decepticons made a pornographic video just to prank us? And not just any Decepticons, but the Slag Maker himself and his Air Commander, whom he hates."

"They don't really hate each other anymore," Optimus pointed out. "As proven by their more effective raids. But… yes?"

Prowl's look remained level and utterly blank. Too blank. "So the Decepticons have pranked us. You interfaced with Megatron. And now you wish to implement a Decepticon sexual activity here."

"Since when is interfacing a Decepticon activity?" Optimus asked.

Prowl arched an optic ridge. "Explain to me how this will work so that such a… lottery does not trample an individual's consent."

Optimus explained to Prowl, then the next day stood before his assembled Autobots to do it again.

"Thank you all for coming," Optimus said, voice carrying throughout the common room. "I want to institute something new. A lottery of sorts." Murmurs ran through the gathered Autobots, and Optimus half-sat on the edge of the table behind him.

"I like lotteries," Smokescreen called out and earned a laugh from a few others.

"And I hope you will like this one too." Optimus lifted a datapad from the table. "This is how you enter."

"Pass it around!" Sideswipe shouted.

Optimus grinned behind his mask as the others laughed, then raised a hand slightly to draw back everyone's attention. "Allow me to explain the rules. Entering the lottery is fully voluntary." Something he was doing differently from the Decepticons as far as Optimus knew. "However, if you do not enter, then you may not participate or enjoy the benefits for the following two weeks until the next lottery. You _must_ be willing to give if you wish to receive."

That caused a few confused looks, and Prowl shifted, doorwings twitching in annoyance. Optimus cast his Second a slight grin despite most of the expression being hidden by his mask, then said, "The mech whose name is drawn will be the designated valve mech for the following two weeks." Shocked gasps echoed in the common room. "I'll be going first." More shock and some disbelieving mutters. "So for the next two weeks, whenever I am not on duty, I will be available to whoever sets his appointment _and_ has entered his name on this datapad to be in the next drawing." Optimus pushed off the table and handed the datapad to Ironhide, who took it as though it might bite him.

"Some of you may be wondering why I've decided to start this, so I will explain." Though Optimus was going to leave out the part about the Decepticons and his day with Megatron for the time being. "It's simple. We've slid far from our former mentality about interfacing. It was for fun. There were no judgments made against a mech that enjoyed using his valve over his spike. Yet here we are, and only a few days ago there was a shouting match in this very room over who would _submit_ his valve to the other mech."

Optimus paused and only barely restrained the urge to tsk disapprovingly at them all. "Before anyone fusses about _preference_ , I do understand. I'm foremost a spike mech. I always have been, but that doesn't make spikes _better_ , nor using one's valve as a preference the weaker, less desirable option. Our time here on Earth, dealing with human societal stereotypes as well as the Decepticons has twisted our view. There is no shame at all in enjoying pleasure with one's valve."

Bluestreak's hand pushed slowly into the air, and Optimus nodded permission to speak. "So, like, these next two weeks, anyone that wants to can fr- uh… interface with you?"

"Spike my valve, yes," Optimus replied, blunt and forward. He wanted no misconceptions. "And then in two weeks, out of those of you who enter, a name will be drawn, and he will take over as valve mech. Now," he added, finger lifting to forestall any questions. "Obviously we have quite a range of sizes here. And this isn't just about making one mech grant access to his valve for two weeks to be used and abused. Spiking mechs, you _must_ see to the valve mech's pleasure in this. There will be no cruelty allowed. If the chosen valve mech is, for example a minibot, then obviously myself, Skyfire, the Dinobots, we would all need to skip requesting a session." He paused, smirking beneath his mask, then added, "Unless of course one is creative and the valve mech agrees. No coercion allowed, of course. This is meant to help us reclaim our _full_ joy of interfacing, not harm mechs emotionally and psychologically."

"Which is why it's voluntary," Prowl said.

Optimus nodded. "It is. If you are not willing to share your valve, then do not enter. But as I said, if you do not enter, then you do not get to request sessions with the chosen valve mech. It would be unfair otherwise." He let his gaze drift over the mechs staring up at him. "Any questions?"

"When does it start?" Bumblebee asked.

"As soon as everyone has either entered their name, or opted out," Optimus replied with a gesture toward the datapad Ironhide still held awkwardly in one hand.

The older warrior blinked, looked at the datapad, then slowly reached for the stylus. Optimus smiled, proud his old friend would lead the way in signing up. Optimus knew Ironhide's preferences, but like so many others, willingness to use his valve had fallen away under the mentality that to be strong and warrior-like, he had to use only his spike and ban access to his valve for anyone who didn't outrank him.

Optimus wasn't sure he would ever be able to admit it to Megatron, but the tyrant had passed along a good idea. The Autobots were honestly suffering. Interfacing should be joyous, something friends shared for pleasure, lovers used to show their care, and comrades did to relieve stress and tension. But they had not been doing that. Instead fights broke out between friends over who had to submit to the other. It was a shame, really.

In the end, nearly all the Autobots chose to enter, and those that didn't made no fuss over it. Optimus was happy to see so many names. He made a mental note of them all, then passed the datapad to Prowl for safekeeping.

"I'll post my schedule shortly to our main data net. Thank you all," Optimus said, then dismissed the Autobots to their duties.


	2. Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins go first.

"So," Sideswipe said, standing with his twin just far enough inside Optimus' quarters that the door shut behind them. "Sure you're ok with both of us together?" he asked. Again.

And again, Optimus smiled and nodded, the smile visible as he had decided to forego the battlemask during these sessions. "If I was not, I would have said so, though I appreciate your desire to be sure of my consent."

Sunstreaker shifted his weight from one foot to the other, arms crossed over his chest. "Most don't," he said, and Optimus blinked, instantly concerned.

"He means want both of us," Sideswipe said, clearly reading where Optimus' thoughts were headed.

"I can't see why," Optimus replied. "You're both exemplary warriors, fine Autobots, and of course, attractive." Sunstreaker's field flushed with embarrassment and pride, and Sideswipe snickered.

"No need for sweet-talking us, boss," Sideswipe said. "How should we do this?"

"I'm only being honest." Though Optimus could appreciate the direct approach and gestured for both mechs to follow him into his berthroom. As an officer he was afforded a suite rather than just a single room. "You mentioned wanting to try both spiking my valve together. Is that still your intent?"

"We don't want to hurt you," Sideswipe said, following Optimus onto the berth and sitting on his heels. "But if you're willing to try it, we want to."

"Probably need to do some prep work first," Sunstreaker said, voice low, optics casting around the room and face rather pink.

Optimus found the shyness charming, particularly from such a brash and volatile mech. "I agree some preparation will be in order. I've used my valve before but not in quite some time." He reached into his subspace and pulled out the synthetic lubricant Ratchet had insisted he take. Just in case. "This should help us when you're ready for it," he said, passing the tube to Sideswipe.

Sideswipe snickered, and Sunstreaker joined them on the berth, sitting on the edge.

"I… feel I must warn you both," Optimus added as he settled on his back, shoulders and helm propped up by bolsters. "I react rather intensely to valve play."

"Meaning?" Sideswipe asked as he moved to kneel in the open spot between Optimus' ankles.

"Overloads are… strong," Optimus said, his own face heating and no doubt shining a brighter pink from the energon rushing to it. "I can become… loud." Sunstreaker's engine revved right along with Sideswipe's, and Optimus grinned.

Shyness was cast aside as Sunstreaker took the lube from his brother and moved between Optimus' legs too. "I have a position in mind, but let's get you ready first."

Sideswipe gave Optimus a slight shrug with a grin at his quizzical look, then leaned in. Heat shocked through Optimus' lines as Sideswipe's mouth pressed to his interface cover, then _licked_. His spike swelled within its housing, and Optimus had to fight to keep the panel shut for long enough to warn the two between his sprawled legs.

"I'm used to using my spike, so just… ignore it," he said, voice strained as Sideswipe chuckled a low note right over where Optimus' spike pushed against the panel.

"We might," Sunstreaker said, a smirk curving across his lips. "We might not."

Optimus shivered and gave up the fight with his array cover, letting it retract. His spike pushed out the moment it could, and Sideswipe snickered as he gave it a lick. "Wow. Who was the lucky mech to give _the Prime_ light piping on his spike?" the red twin asked, a fingertip tracing the red, curving line. "I approve of the color too."

"It was a long time ago," Optimus replied and absolutely did _not_ mention that Ratchet did the work after goading him that the Prime shouldn't have such a 'plain and boring' silver spike. Optimus figured he was lucky he managed to get away with only the inlays. They were enough to inspire mechs to do exactly what Sideswipe was and trace them with fingers and tongue. "This is decidedly not you enjoying my valve."

"Trust me," Sunstreaker said, shifting to sit with his legs folded in as he pulled Optimus' leg over his lap. "Sides has this oral fixation. He'll eat both and still want more."

"Mmm…" Sideswipe hummed in agreement, sending a pleasant little buzz though Optimus' spike.

Optimus chuckled a little and settled back into the bolsters. "Whatever pleases you," he purred, grinning more as a shiver tracked through both twins. He sighed softly and relaxed, pleasure tingling up his inner thigh from where Sunstreaker traced his fingertips over the more sensitive cables at the back of his knee.

Sideswipe dedicated another few licks to Optimus' spike before sliding his mouth lower to place hot, sucking kisses over the surface of Optimus' array. A slow lick around the valve rim had Optimus shivering himself, another sigh escaping, and he shifted his free leg out more in encouragement. Sunstreaker chuckled, fingertip chasing a line of fire up from Optimus knee to his array.

"You're damn sexy like this," the golden twin said, his touch trailing back down. "Make me want to just frag you through the berth."

Optimus dragged his optics open enough to smile at Sunstreaker. His sensornet tingled, like a bit of static caught under his plating, and he felt almost sleepy-drunk as Sideswipe searched out, and found, the shallow nodes in his valve. "I'm willing."

Bliss shocked through Optimus as Sideswipe laughed, the sound vibrating right into his valve. His vents hitched, his back arched a bit, and desire tightened into real need deep in his belly.

Sunstreaker smirked, and Optimus' vents caught again as Sideswipe thrust his tongue deeper into his valve. "Sides says you taste amazing."

"Does he?" Optimus' voice rasped a bit, and he was _very _tempted to let Sideswipe finish things just as he was. That wouldn't be fair though, as this was supposed to be about _their_ pleasure. His too, of course, but Optimus knew just how effective valve overloads were in clearing his charge. "Mn… Stop, Sideswipe. That's a little too nice."__

__Sideswipe lifted his helm, lubricant smeared across a cheek. "But you haven't overloaded."_ _

__Optimus planted his hands on the berth and scooted up to sit. "Exactly." Sunstreaker tipped his helm, and Optimus sensed the question neither twin was asking. "I did mention that valve overloads were intense for me. Once is generally enough to finish me off for a while." He shifted his gaze to Sideswipe. "If I let you continue, neither of you will get much of a turn yourselves."_ _

__"Wow. Just one is enough?" Sideswipe asked as he pushed up to sit on his heels. A wicked smile curved his lips. "I can't wait to see that."_ _

__Optimus laughed and smiled at Sunstreaker. "You mentioned you had a position in mind?"_ _

__"Sure you're ready?" Sunstreaker asked. "Don't want to hurt you."_ _

__"Your idea kinda puts him in charge though, bro." Sideswipe poked a finger at Optimus. "But tell us if it hurts, ok?"_ _

__"I will," Optimus promised. "How are we doing this?" He had certainly never taken two mechs at once before, so he was going to have to rely on the twins for guidance in this._ _

__Sunstreaker waved a hand at Sideswipe to move, then nudged Optimus' leg in as he climbed over it. Optimus moved to the side, watching at the twins arranged themselves on his berth. Sideswipe's left leg draped over Sunstreaker's right, and Sunstreaker's left rested over Sideswipe's right, their helms pointed to opposite ends of Optimus' berth. They each retracted their panels, and Optimus grinned to see rather fancy and ornate spikes extend right next to one another. Red and gold light swirled and twisted in very fine, thin lines around and up delicately etched silver spikes. Optimus reached out, his hand looking too large and clumsy to touch what were truly works of art on living metal._ _

__"Sunny designed them," Sideswipe supplied the gave a low moan as Optimus squeezed the spikes together and gave them a slow, dragging stroke up._ _

__"Beautiful," Optimus said honestly. He shifted closer and slung one leg over the twins', having a fair idea just how this was supposed to work. He did rather like that it left him in control too. "Are you both ready?" he asked, glancing in either direction to try to judge by expression._ _

__Sideswipe chuckled, hips bucking up, which made his spike slide through Optimus' grip and Sunstreaker moan. "We're ready. Primus slag me, we're damn ready."_ _

__"Frag," Sunstreaker gasped._ _

__Optimus couldn't help but laugh a little as he let his knees slide out wider. That laughter died on a hard gasp as both spikes nudged against his array. He guided them, hand careful as he squeezed the spikes together and wriggled his hips in an effort to get both in at once._ _

__Sideswipe cursed, something low and guttural Optimus hadn’t heard since he was a dockhand, and Sunstreaker twitched through a full-body shiver. A low moan rumbled up out of Optimus' chest from the pleasure as well, as he sank down. Together, the twins' spikes made for a rather pleasant stretch, and the nodes in Optimus' valve lining lit with the contact._ _

__Once in position, Optimus gave Sunstreaker a smirk and swiveled his hips in slow, tight little circles. From behind him, Sideswipe groaned and gripped Optimus' hips, though not to restrain him._ _

__"I'm afraid I'm very out of practice," Optimus said, voice rumbling low._ _

__"Yeah. This totally sucks," Sunstreaker said, static lacing the wry words and his optics shaded to cobalt._ _

__Optimus couldn't help but chuckle. "My apologies. I'll have to do better." And while it _had_ been a rather long time, Optimus hadn't forgotten all the tricks. He ground down, hips winding rather than lifting, and worked his calipers in long, inward sweeping waves. The twins moaned in stereo, Sideswipe's hands tightening on Optimus' hips, and Optimus smirked a little to himself. Sunstreaker finally reached up too, fingers finding edges of armor to grip._ _

__Then both warriors thrust up together, and Optimus was left gasping, pleasure sweeping up through him in a hot rush._ _

__Sunstreaker growled, deep blue optics on Optimus' face while Sideswipe chuckled through a moan. Unwilling to be outdone, Optimus braced his hands on his own knees and lifted before dropping back down. Both twins moaned, and bliss rocketed through Optimus as well. They also both took that as permission to truly start thrusting, leaving Optimus panting and gasping as the twins stroked his charge higher._ _

__"Primus," Optimus whispered, uncertain whether it was a prayer or a curse. Beneath him the twins worked in concert, low growls and soft moans escaping now and then. Sunstreaker wore an intent look. Sideswipe's hands remained tight on Optimus' hips, guiding now, helping set the pace. Optimus moaned as well, grasping after control, but it was far too easy to sink into the sensations._ _

__Pleasure rolled up through him, tingling, pushing his spark to throb faster, harder, and Optimus found himself moving to that internal rhythm. "Primus," he repeated, and this time it was definitely a prayer, his tone pleading. The need tightened, bolted down low, and sizzled across lines and circuits. In the next moment he fell, ecstasy bursting free, tearing sharp, repetitive, _loud_ cries from him._ _

__Sideswipe cursed, his rhythm juttering out of sync and his fingers digging into Optimus' plating. Sunstreaker hissed in a breath and thrust harder. Optimus moaned, valve clenching in a hard aftershock with the swell of heat within him even as he drifted down._ _

__"Frag me," Sideswipe groaned, pushing up in a few lasts thrusts to drag out his own pleasure._ _

__Optimus didn't mind, but he couldn't stay upright anymore. He leaned forward, braced up on his hands and hanging over Sunstreaker._ _

__"You ok?" the golden twin asked._ _

__"Better than. That was…" Optimus couldn't find the right word and didn't bother searching for it._ _

__Sideswipe patted his hip, other hand smoothing up and down Optimus' back. "I mean, you said it affected you pretty strongly. That was…" He chuckled. "I mean _damn_."_ _

__Optimus huffed a slight laugh and dared lift off the twins so he could collapse properly on the berth. "Damn about sums it up. Thank you."_ _

__"Should be thanking you," Sunstreaker said as Optimus flopped out beside him. "So, ya know, thanks."_ _

__"My pleasure," Optimus said with feeling and smiled at Sunstreaker._ _

__Sideswipe crawled up and treated Optimus to a rather sweet little kiss to his cheek. "No really, Prime. Thank you. That was hotter than smelted slag. And hey!" he added with a laugh, "We didn't need the spare lube after all! You stay there." A finger was pointed at Optimus. "We'll get you cleaned up."_ _

__As Sideswipe bounded off the berth, Sunstreaker offered Optimus a shrug. "I'm with you. Fraggin' nap time." He gave a lazy wave in his twin's direction. "Sides gets all energetic after an overload."_ _

__A nap did sound wonderful, so Optimus snuggled closer to Sunstreaker, wrapped an arm around him, and purred. He was still _just_ conscious enough to hear Sideswipe return from the private washracks and feel the damp cloth wipe along his thigh._ _

__"Oh, that's slagging cute," the red twin said, but Sunstreaker had curled into Optimus' arms after only a moment's tension, and Optimus was more than ready to drift off._ _


	3. Switch It Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Li'l bit o' the D/s with a side of bondage~

Ratchet knelt in the middle of Optimus' berthroom floor, aft on his heels, knees spread wide and panel open. His wrists were bound together before his chest and connected to a tether, the other end of which led off to the side to tie around one leg of Optimus' berth. An order disabled all scanners and sensors, and a blindfold covered usually aqua optics- though Optimus knew that by now they would glow a deeper blue. The blindfold was carefully secured, also covering Ratchet's audials to a degree. It muffled sounds _just_ enough that, with a quiet step, Optimus could keep Ratchet from knowing what direction the swing was coming from.

Optimus eyed the small puddle of lubricant under Ratchet, the straight jut of his spike. White light coiled in swoops and spirals up the sides. Red LED glowed in short lines across the underside. Optimus grinned, wondering just how many of his Autobots had decorated spikes. Of course, he'd known about Ratchet's array modifications and decorations. He couldn't see it from his current angle, but the top side of Ratchet's spike also sported lighting -more white- in delicate scrollwork that doubled back on itself before sweeping forward again, mirrored toward the centerline.

"Such a pretty spike," Optimus purred, making Ratchet flinch and turn his face up toward the deep voice. "Though I don't think that makes up for the mess you're making of my floor." The crop was swung inward to lightly tap against Ratchet's valve, startling another flinch from him. Optimus grinned and drew the end up, stroking the length of that pretty spike. It had been a pleasant few days with his Autobots, and his valve was already slicking in anticipation. Even better was that he and Ratchet had a nice history. It was relaxing to slip into something a little more familiar and comfortable.

The only difference this time was that Optimus would be making use of Ratchet's spike instead of his valve.

Ratchet shivered in want, plating chiming before fluffing out to help dump the excess heat. His vents ran fast already, no less anticipatory than Optimus.

Optimus smirked, gave the tip of the spike a light tap of its own, and stepped to the side so he could get in a good swing to Ratchet's outer thigh. The medic gasped, spike bobbing and the lights flaring a bit brighter for a moment. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Ratchet's mouth worked silently for a moment, his vocalizer resetting before the words came out. "I'm sorry, sir?"

Optimus swung again, this time catching the bottom of a white foot with a harder strike. Ratchet's yelp echoed. "Clearly you aren't, or you wouldn't be _asking_ your apology."

"I'm sorry I'm making a mess of your floor!" Ratchet's plating twitched like he wanted to move, and Optimus was pleased that he managed not to. He wanted to _reward_ his little submissive today.

"Hm…" Optimus dragged the crop up Ratchet's back, letting it tap with a considering rhythm on a white shoulder. "You have been _very_ good otherwise of late." A truth. Ratchet had been keeping more or less proper hours, refueling, and in general taking care of himself. First Aid didn't understand the game, but he gleefully reported any 'misbehavior' on Ratchet's part to Optimus. "I suppose if you promise to clean it up really well in a little bit, I can forgive you this once."

"Yes, sir. I will, sir!"

Optimus set the crop aside as quietly as he could, and ordered, "On the berth, and lie on your back."

Ratchet crawled on his knees to the side of the berth, braced his shoulder on the corner of it, and rolled up to his back. Optimus bit back a laugh. Odd as the movement had been, it had been managed rather gracefully. That didn't make it less funny to watch though.

"Like this, sir?" Ratchet asked.

"Close," Optimus replied, pacing over to the side of his berth. "Angle your aft more toward the middle." Ratchet obeyed, and that left Optimus enough room to plant his knee on the berth and straddle the medic's thighs. He dragged a fingertip up the length of Ratchet's spike, drinking in the low moan that earned him and watching the red flare brighter again. "You may not overload until I say so."

"Yes, sir," Ratchet replied dutifully, voice strained.

Optimus let his panel retract with a click, and smiled as Ratchet shivered again. A droplet of transfluid beaded at the tip of his spike, and Optimus rubbed it around the end, making the medic whimper. It would be a challenge this time. Ratchet was generally good at obeying the 'no overloading without permission' rule, but he hadn't spiked Optimus since very early on in the war. Optimus honestly didn't know how much control Ratchet had with his spike, particularly in a dominance and submission scene, which always revved him hotter and faster.

Optimus only spent a moment on playing with Ratchet's spike, not wanting to unfairly push him. "Now be good," he warned, and lifted himself up enough to slide forward and catch the end of Ratchet's spike with his valve. A low moan rose out of Optimus as he sank down, and Ratchet's whole body shook.

"Sir!" the medic gasped, hands clasped together in front of his chest like a prayer.

Optimus reached out one hand to cover both of Ratchet's and gave them both a moment to adjust and gather their control. Not an easy task. Pleasure swelled through Optimus' belly, and he could feel Ratchet twitching within him, which of course made his calipers cycle and clutch, which only made Ratchet twitch more.

The medic's hips bucked up with a soft cry, and that was more than Optimus could resist. He ground down, pelvis rolling to rub their arrays together. Ratchet gasped, mouth open and helm thrown back, thrusting up faster.

"Ratchet," Optimus called, his voice gentle as he used his weight to trap the medic's hips against the berth. "Ratchet."

"Y-yes, sir?"

"Cycle your vents. You're doing very well," Optimus said, grasping after his own quickly fraying control. He had _not_ been prepared for how intensely this would affect him, or how difficult it would be to stay in the right mindset to guide Ratchet.

Optimus must have managed the right tone, because Ratchet did as told, body relaxing under Optimus as he cycled his vents and calmed. They still twitched and pulsed together, arrays hot and slick, but some control was regained.

"Ready?" Optimus asked after a few minutes.

"Yes, sir," Ratchet answered, voice laced with static, but much calmer.

Optimus gave a careful roll of his hips, and this time Ratchet pushed up to meet him and followed the slower pace. "Good," Optimus praised. "Very good." He kept things slow and careful, leaning forward to brace on his hands on the berth so he could lift off the spike and slide back down onto it with longer strokes.

Ratchet moaned, and it really wasn't very long at all before they were both panting and gasping again. Optimus tingled all over, and only rocking up so he could drop back down and feel the long slide of a hard spike over his valve nodes offered any relief from the need that coiled heavy and hot low in his belly. He moaned a deep note and ground down a bit harder, bliss zinging up to his spark.

"Sir…"

"Not yet," Optimus said, voice rasping, though he knew a warning when he heard one. He was getting close himself. Overload hovered just ahead. "After I overload, you may," he added, afraid he would forget to give permission as the charge swelled higher. His optics wouldn't stay open, and he leaned heavily on his hands so he could rock down even harder. Another grinding roll where his whole array buzzed and hummed, then release sparked and ignited, burning fire through his lines.

Optimus' cries rung off the walls, Ratchet's shouts echoing him as he bucked up hard, all finesse lost to his overload. Optimus moaned, helm hanging between his shoulders as he shivered in aftershocks, calipers cycling madly and driving the breath from his vents.

"Optimus!" Ratchet cried, and it was the shock of hearing his name that snapped Optimus from the haze of his release.

"Are you hurt?" Optimus asked, carefully lifting himself off Ratchet to kneel beside him. His hands shook as he untied the knots binding the medic's wrists.

"No," Ratchet said as he shook his helm. "Just… Primus, slag me. And then you didn't respond."

"I-" Optimus froze, optics resting in surprise. "I didn't?"

"No. You're ok?" Ratchet asked, and he lifted a hand as soon as Optimus freed it to shove the blindfold off his optics.

"I am," Optimus answered, still stunned that he'd lost himself like that. "I'm sorry to have worried you. That was very intense."

Ratchet huffed a laugh and held up his arms in a silent demand to be held. Optimus stretched out and wound his arms around the medic willingly, one leg tossed over both of Ratchet's.

"We either need to do that more," Optimus began, "so I can practice maintaining my focus, or not again. And if we do try again, then perhaps it would be best if you weren't bound and helpless."

"Sounds good."

Optimus peered closely at Ratchet's face, a bit worried as he came down that he'd caused some harm, but Ratchet knew him too well. One optic peeped open, still dark but closer to aqua again than not, and the medic grinned. "I'm fine, and I'm glad you are. That was amazing. And I'll clean your floor in a little bit."

Optimus chuckled and cuddled in closer to Ratchet. "We can rest a while first, I think."

"Mmm… That sounds good too." Ratchet rolled into the embrace, well acquainted with Optimus' preference for snuggling after interfacing.

Optimus relaxed, but forced himself to stay awake until Ratchet was recharging, vents soft and even.


	4. Fire in the Berth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get it, Skyfire. Get it!

"Come in," Optimus said, stepping back and gesturing Skyfire to step into his quarters.

Skyfire entered, large hands wringing in front of his middle, optics a bit pale around the edges. Optimus made sure the door shut firmly so no one could just walk in. It was incredibly unlikely, but with the nervousness radiating from Skyfire, he wanted to ensure as much privacy as possible for the mech.

"Energon?" Optimus offered, lifting a cube of sweet, warmed, geothermal-made energon from his conversation table.

"Oh. Yes, thank you," Skyfire said, though he only moved close enough to _stretch_ his arm out to take it before all but flinching back.

Optimus tipped his helm. "You do realize this is not mandatory?"

"What? Oh! No." Skyfire scrubbed a hand over the back of his helm. "It's just that for the last two weeks, I've heard some really, uh, great stories. I'm really probably not going to live up to… well, any of them."

Optimus left his own cube untouched on the table and strode forward to clasp Skyfire's wrists. "Skyfire. There is no competition here." He grinned up at the tall mech. "Besides, I've heard some of those stories, and a few are a bit… embellished."

"I'm not terribly creative," Skyfire said, his wings dipping lower and his voice soft. "I just… Well, I'm so much larger than everyone here. It would just be nice to feel something other than my own hand." He blinked, suddenly realizing what he just said. Wings shot up. Optics paled.

Optimus smiled his most serene smile and squeezed Skyfire's wrists again despite wanting to laugh. Not _at_ Skyfire, but at his shy charm. "Interfacing doesn't need to be creative to be good. Not every romp in the berth is an adventure in flexibility and balance. Most aren't."

Skyfire lifted the cube, and Optimus released his hold so the mech could drink. The energon disappeared in a single long pull, then Skyfire gave Optimus a decisive nod. "All right. Though if there's something more I can do so you enjoy it, please let me know?"

"Of course," Optimus replied then led the way into his berthroom. "Do you have a preferred position?"

Skyfire shrugged a shoulder. "On top? It's a little more comfortable for my wings."

Optimus nodded and settled himself in the middle of his berth. One hand lifted in silent invitation for Skyfire to join him, and the mech crossed to the berth to sit on the side. His hand engulfed Optimus', and the other came up to trace soft lines along Optimus' wrist.

"I haven't done this in a very long time."

"I'm sure we can muddle through," Optimus said with a smile. He reached with his free hand to catch Skyfire's elbow and tugged at him. "Lie with me. We can start slow."

Slow would be nice, and once Skyfire was stretched out on his side, Optimus cupped his cheek and pulled him into a soft kiss. Not something he had done much of during his sessions with his Autobots. Not something he had done much of at all in his life, and his lips remained incredibly sensitive due to how often they were protected from exposure. A zing swept out over Optimus' shoulders and shot through his spark as Skyfire gently licked out. A soft tongue glided along Optimus' lower lip, then pressed into his mouth when he sighed.

Skyfire, Optimus quickly learned, was a very good kisser. His lips brushed, light and tantalizing before pressing more firmly. His tongue met and caressed Optimus'. He explored without demanding control, guiding or following as the whim took them. Optimus was probably overthinking it, but he thought he might actually be learning a bit from the mech.

"You're smiling," Skyfire murmured, his lips moving against Optimus' with the words.

"It's a nice kiss."

Skyfire smiled in return, one hand sliding down from Optimus' shoulder to his hip as he returned to the kiss. Optimus encouraged the touching by exploring Skyfire's frame with his own hands. Not that he could reach much, but he caressed shoulders and slid his fingers along the edges of Skyfire's wings, then around his back to hold him in closer. A sigh escaped Skyfire as he tipped his face away from the kiss to trail his mouth along Optimus' cheek and right up his finial. Pleasure poured down the back of Optimus' neck to pool in his spark before overflowing and settling as a pulsing heat in his array. He moaned low, knees spreading of their own accord, only for his vents to hitch as Skyfire grazed his fingers over Optimus' array cover.

"This is rather warm," Skyfire purred, fingers skating over the panel in a random swirl.

"I blame you," Optimus replied with a grin, pleased when Skyfire chuckled.

"Then it would only be polite to help you with it." Skyfire's fingertip caught against the fine seam for a light, encouraging tug. "Open for me."

Optimus couldn't have resisted had he wanted to. The scent of lubricant filled the air as soon as his panel retracted, and a low, hungry moan rolled out as Skyfire's fingers swept in that same swirling motion over his bared array. A sharp gasp quickly followed as one thick finger traced Optimus' valve before pressing in. "Primus."

Skyfire smiled against Optimus' helm. "It's been mentioned that this is intense for you."

"Yes," Optimus replied in a whisper, his vocalizer suddenly not cooperating as Skyfire stroked that one finger in and out.

"Then I hope you'll simply let go and let me tend to you." Skyfire's finger was joined by another, and together they pushed in deeper, igniting a fire in Optimus' belly.

Optimus opened his mouth to say… something, but the thick slide of both fingers stole all thought. He supposed if anyone was large and strong enough to handle him if he completely let go, it would be Skyfire. A good thing too, because just as he was adjusting to the intensity of two fingers, a third was added. A hard shiver wracked Optimus from head to foot, dragging another low moan from him as pleasure shimmered through his lines.

"If it hurts, let me know," Skyfire said, his voice soft and deep next to Optimus' audial.

At first the words made no sense, but then Skyfire pulled his fingers free and settled himself between Optimus' legs. The blunt, hot tip of a spike rested heavy against the rim of Optimus' valve, and a shudder ran through him hard enough to make his plating ring.

Skyfire chuckled softly and nudged forward. _That_ got Optimus' attention. His optics flew open, vents hitching on a gasp as his valve was spread open.

"Hurt?"

"No," Optimus groaned, hands clutching tight to Skyfire's shoulders. "Primus, don't stop!"

"I've barely started." Which was apparently true, though Skyfire moved slowly, rocking out to press in just a little deeper with each easy thrust.

Optimus panted, legs spread wide, but that wasn't enough, so he drew his knees up to hook over Skyfire's hips. On the next thrust, Skyfire slipped in far enough to knock against the apex of Optimus' valve. A sharp cry burst from Optimus, bliss rushing him in a hot surge.

Skyfire held there a moment, and Optimus could _feel_ concern from the mech, but he didn't want concern. He wanted that bright flare of pleasure again.

"Move! Primus, Skyfire, move!"

"Liked that, hm?" Skyfire rolled his hips back and plunged in deep again.

Fireworks went off behind Optimus' optic shutters. "Yes!" Oh Primus, save him! That felt _incredible_. He shouted again as Skyfire worked them up into an even, driving pace. Sensornet alight, Optimus cried out with each stroke of that _thick_ , long spike. He burned, internals gone molten hot as he arched and bucked into each thrust. He clawed at Skyfire's shoulders, his back. His feet scraped over the backs of the larger mech's thighs. Then a star went supernova within Optimus, and his valve clamped tight, _every_ node locked in contact with Skyfire's spike, and Optimus _screamed_. The wailing note broke into gasped, ecstatic sobs as Skyfire moaned a low note and ground in. The end of his spike rolled pressure and pleasure over those deepest-set nodes, and just as Optimus began to come down, he was launched back into mind-breaking rapture.

"Optimus," a gentle voice called from some great distance.

Optimus struggled, torn between answering the call and wanting to recharge the rest of forever away.

"Wake up for me. Optimus," the voice called again.

With a groan, Optimus rolled toward the solid warmth at his side. A fuzz against his plating resolved into long, firm, petting strokes, down his back now instead of his side since he rolled.

A soft chuckle sounded near Optimus' audial. "You are utterly adorable when waking."

Optimus peeled his optics open and blinked in confusion up at- "Skyfire?"

"Welcome back. Feel alright?" Skyfire asked, still smiling.

Memory rushed Optimus and he gaped up at Skyfire. "Oh."

Skyfire laughed and hugged Optimus close. "It's been a long time since I knocked a mech into a reset," he said. "Do you have any alerts? Are you in pain at all?"

Optimus shook his helm to the question of alerts and shifted his hips and legs, pressing his thighs together and giving his calipers a squeeze to check them. Other than a lazy response from his extremely sated valve, there was nothing wrong. And that wasn't exactly _wrong_ either. "I'm in fine health." He cycled his vents and tipped his helm back to look up at Skyfire. "Thank you, that was… I don't have the words."

Skyfire beamed. "Thank _you_." He brought the hand petting Optimus' back up to cup his cheek and dropped a soft kiss to Optimus' lips. "You can rest more if you need. I'm honestly content to relax here a while."

"Oh? A fellow cuddle bug?" Optimus teased, though he promptly burrowed in against the larger mech, fully intent on enjoying the novelty of not being the larger partner for once.

"Definitely a cuddle bug," Skyfire replied, his arms wrapping around Optimus to hold wonderfully tight. "But really, Optimus- thank you. I think this lottery idea of yours will be good for us all."

"It's actually a Decepticon idea," Optimus mumbled, already sinking toward recharge.

" _What_?!"


End file.
